Mystery publishing, from idea to bookshelf

November 30, 2010

So I recently did a juice cleanse and the 72 hours of sobriety were an absolute REVELATION.

Don’t worry, I won’t be doing THAT again.

But after the initial shock at realizing potato vodka doesn't actually qualify as a juice, I happened to look to my left and to my right and I realized there are some delightful people out there in publishing. Deeeelightful. Do you know them?

Sara Megibow: Sara has been with Nelson Literary since 2006 and is ACTIVELY looking for new clients. But better than that? This one time in Orlando at RWA she was reading a manuscript poolside and dangling her legs in, and for whatever reason I was in the pool- God, one hopes in appropriate bathing attire- and I swam up and had an entire conversation about trends in historical romance while hanging onto her legs like creeping lichen. It was the second time we had ever met. Uh, awesome.

Chuck Sambuchino: I know, I know, you have to be a cabbage to be exploring publishing and not know Chuck Sambuchino, but this guy is as congenial as he is helpful, and I am constantly and consistently referring hopeful authors his way to get the ABCs of burgeoning publishing careers and it is HIGH TIME I genuflected to the man for educating the masses. And also he is a huge fan of this band, so clearly he has taste. (Chuck? Your wish is granted: I so just told the world about the children’s CD. Somewhere in Connecticut, Lauren DeStefano’s head just exploded. And then she ordered 17 of them. )

Myra McEntire and Victoria Schwab You might know them as two of the organizers of the Do The Write Thing for Nashville flood relief auction, and this summer you'll know them for their fabulous debut novels. Myra's:a Southern-set timeslip YA romance called HOURGLASS, will be published in May by Egmont USA, and Victoria's: a darkly lyrical original fairy tale called THE NEAR WITCH, will be published in August by Disney-Hyperion. Get in on the ground floor and preorder both books. All the cool kids are doing it.

There. Now I'm off to do a keg stand.

And by keg stand, I mean a vegetable juice keg stand.

And by vegetable juice keg stand, I mean a potato juice keg stand.

And by potato juice keg stand I mean a potato vodka keg stand.

And by potato vodka keg stand, I mean just lie here with a bottle and kind of coo and purr.

November 29, 2010

With Thanksgiving safely in the rear view mirror, and for those of us born into the "chosen" sect, Chanukah coming in a matter of minutes, perhaps this is the time to offer a primer on how to deal for the next six weeks or so with those most tricky of your friends or relatives, the atheists.

FIrst of all, if you think you don't know any atheists, you're probably wrong. Of course, the definition can vary, with people choosing to call themselves agnostics, secularists, humanists and non-believers. All those are completely valid choices for the people who claim them, and they'll get no argument here. But for the sake of brevity and simplicity, we'll use "atheists" as the group of those who believe in humanity and scientific fact rather than any supernatural or religious dogma (that is a paraphrase of the definition used by the U.S. Supreme Court).

Most of the time, atheists go about their business quietly, even as religion in America seems to be getting louder every day politically, culturally and otherwise. Since a relatively recent poll found that Americans would rather see their children marrying essentially ANYBODY rather than an atheist, there's a certain logic behind the rather low volume of most non-believers' discourse on the subject. It's live and let live, for the most part, among atheists.

But in December especially, when people feel the need to include everyone they know in their celebration of one religion-based holiday or another, some believers are squeamish about how to treat the atheists. Do you send a card? Do you invite them to what has innocuously become "The Holiday Party?" Does New Year's Eve count? For those who don't want to offend, it's a problem.

Well, I'm here to help.

Tips For Dealing With Atheists in December

On holiday cards: If the cards don't have a particularly religious theme (and Santa Claus, having evolved from St. Nicholas, counts), no problem. I tend to send New Year cards, which is sort of hypocritical, but gets the job done and gives me an extra week in which to do it. Cards with bible quotes, depictions of any or all deities, or religious messages, would be in bad taste to send to an atheist.

On holiday parties: Again, if it's not being held in a church, synagogue, mosque or Wal-Mart, there should be no problem. Atheists like to get drunk and eat foods that are bad for them just like everybody else. And if they agree to show up, they have no right to complain about the stereo in your car playing

Christmas music: Quite often, this particular element of the "Holiday Season" is out of our control. Radio stations that devote themselves to holiday music (and let's be real--there are no popular Chanukah or Kwanzaa songs) 24/7 during December are played in government facilities like the Post Office, and short of a pointless and expensive lawsuit, there's little stopping it. If your atheist pal asks for a lift to the holiday party, however, you might want to stick to secular CDs in the car just as a gesture of friendship. You can play the other stuff later. Yeah, I know I just said they shouldn't complain, and they shouldn't, but it's a nice gesture nonetheless.

Online: Here's where things get dicey. It would be nice, in the spirit of doing unto others, if we were to agree that there are at least some atheists reading online lists devoted to, let's say, crime fiction. So scaling back the scripture quotes on your signature line, while seeming to encroach on your free speech, might be a polite thing to do, as would avoiding ending each post with "blessings." That's just a suggestion. Keep in mind that the atheists are refraining from ending each post with the signature line, "There is no God. Get over it."

Online Part 2: For those of us who are non-participants in Christmas, it is silly to ask what our favorite Christmas song, Christmas TV special, or Christmas movie might be. We don't have one. Although I do like to occasionally put on Jose Feliciano's rendition of "Feliz Navidad," because most of it's in Spanish so I have no idea what's being said, and because Jose seems to be having such a good time. And I like Mr. Magoo's Christmas Carol because it's funny and, let's face it, has nothing at all to do with religion.

It's important to keep in mind that most atheists DON'T want to stop you from having a good time. On the contrary. But it is at worst polite and at best in the highest spirit of all religions to accord respect to everyone. While our society bombards us with holiday brouhaha, keeping those with a different belief--that is to say, none--in mind should not be a limitation, but, you should pardon the expression, a blessing.

These have been suggestions. The staff and ownership of HEY THERE'S A DEAD GUY IN THE LIVING ROOM are not responsible for the nonsensical ravings of the lunatic mind that blogs here each Monday.

Have a happy last month of the year, everybody! Except those who observe another calendar. You guys just have a good time, okay?

November 28, 2010

The year 2010 is special for fans of Mark Twain because it includes not only the 175th anniversary of his birth on November 30, but also because it included the 100th anniversary of his death this past April 21. What has made this year extraordinary for Twain afficianados was the release of a revised and completely uncensored edition of volume 1 of his autobiography only a couple of weeks ago. Although I have not investigated this 700+ page book beyond picking it up to see how heavy it was, my understanding from the reviews I have read is that Twain did not hold back from dishing the dirt on his contemporaries; the reason he imposed the 100 year delay for its publication was to ensure that everyone he had written about would not be around to read this final uncensored version.

To celebrate Twain's birthday year, my library's book group read both Adventures of Huckleberry Finn and Pudd'nhead Wilson, works that most of us had not picked up since our junior or senior high school days. Time has most definitely not dimmed the brilliance of Twain's social commentary; his fierce oppostion to the practice of slavery still burns through the pages. It is therefore most unfortunate that the frequent appearance of the "n" word , used by Twain as an accurate depiction of how people in slave states spoke, gets in the way of some contemporary readers' ability to understand and appreciate the brilliance of Twain's literary excoriation of the practice. Nonetheless, Twain's brilliant sense of humor jumps off the pages as sharp as ever, with observations about the human condition that are just as accurate now as they were more than a hundred years ago.

It was a very pleasant surprise, as I was re-reading Pudd'nhead Wilsonfor the first time in more than 40 years, to discover that this short novel is actually categorized by some scholars as a piece of crime fiction. Although the ostensible focus of this novella is to make a strong statement against the practice of slavery, much of the action focuses on the eccentricities of the title character, a lawyer who is newly arrived in town and who has earned the nickname "Pudd'nhead" in no small measure due to his interest in the newfangled science of fingerprint identification. Remarkably, Pudd'nhead Wilson was published in 1883, only three years after the publication of the first scholarly article that addressed the possibility of using the study of fingerprints for the purpose of solving crime. It is therefore probable that the vast majority of those who read Pudd'nhead Wilson when it was first published considered the description of a character who used small glass plates to collect the fingerprints of everyone in town, slaves included, to be just another of Twain's fanciful inventions.

I am currently three quarters of the way through the audiobook of Faithful Place, by Tama French, a recently published (and absolutely wonderful) mystery novel in which the absence of fingerprints on a particular piece of evidence is continuing to propel the action forward. It stands as additional evidence of just how much ahead of his time Mark Twain truly was.

Happy Birthday, Mr. Twain! May your writing live on in libraries forever and ever.

November 27, 2010

October is a good/bad month for me. Bad, because it's usually slow; good, because in October I usually start mulling over my favorite reads of the year, which reminds me why I so enjoy selling books in the first place. I had a really hard time narrowing my list this year, though as always there were a few books I read early in the year that stuck in my head and refused to leave. Happy reading - there's something on this list for every kind of reader. What were your favorites?

Danse Macabre, Gerald Elias. This was a surprise. When I went backward through some old Independent Mystery Bookseller bestseller lists, I noticed Elias’ first book, Devil’s Trill, appeared on many of them. Reading this one was pure chance - he was scheduled to come to the store, so I read the book, expecting a book about a blind violin teacher to be a tad on the gimmicky side. Far from it. Elias’ central character, Daniel Jacobus, is indeed a blind, cranky violin teacher (and violinist) but his blindness serves to hone his detective skills. This is introduced into the stories in various subtle ways, but I think not since Sherlock Holmes has someone been able to deduce so much from a smell. The bonus is that the classical music background is absolutely authentic - Elias’ other job is concert master of the Utah Symphony. When he visited the store all who came to the event were lucky enough to hear him play his violin. The classical music setting - though this is set in New York city, it feels exotic - helps make this series a standout. Both volumes are excellent; the second one seems to have ramped up Elias’ narrative skills, but if you enjoy classical music at all (or simply excellent traditional mysteries) this book should not be missed.

The Left-Handed Dollar, Loren D. Estleman. Even before Robert Parker passed from the scene it was my firm belief that Loren Estleman’s Amos Walker series was the finest continuing Private Eye series in the universe and The Left-Handed Dollar only confirms that belief. Private Eye books are always better when the protagonist has a personal stake in the case at hand, and in this book that’s true in spades, as Amos is hired by hot shot lawyer “Lefty Lucy” Lettermore to exonerate an mobster for an old conviction. The only problem is that the crime was attempting to blow up reporter Barry Stackpole, the guy Amos calls “the” friend. Since the attempt caused Barry to lose a leg, feelings run high, but when Amos starts taking a closer look at the case, yesterday’s witnesses start getting killed in the here and now. The plot spins smoothly with the right element of surprise, but Estleman always provides the total package, with memorable characters from major to minor, razor sharp sketches of Detroit and environs, and punchy prose, all delivered with a strong shot of sheer wit. It’s all so effortlessly done that Estleman’s mastery can be underestimated – that is until you read a book by anybody else who has a hand in the P.I. writing game and realize how Loren trumps them all.

The End Game, Gerrie Ferris-Finger. This is the winner of the annual St. Martin’s Malice Domestic prize, and it’s a worthy victor. While that prize is given to the best “traditional” mystery, sometimes called a cozy, Ferris Finger uses a traditional structure to tell a decidedly un-cozy story. Her main character, Moriah Dru, works with the police to find missing children. In this outing Dru is looking for two missing sisters whose foster parents were killed in a fire. The author uses the traditional form to the extent that she has Dru interview all the characters in the tiny Atlanta community where the girls were living, but she also uses this device to give the reader a real picture of the community and the people who live in it. Halfway through she throws in what is basically a locked room mystery, and she winds up this tour de force using train whistles as a clue, which is very Dorothy Sayers of her. Her narrative skills are wonderful - this book really moves - and Ferris Finger’s unsentimental writing style helps you as a reader to get through some of the darker elements of her story. All in all, a terrific read.

The Lock Artist, Steve Hamilton. At first I was a little sad this wasn’t an Alex McKnight book, but this story completely won me over. Hamilton is such a total pro he makes this complicated and detailed story look easy (in that he resembles another master, Michael Connelly). His main character, Mike, doesn’t speak, thanks to a childhood trauma, one that’s unknown until the end of the book. What he’s really good at is picking locks and drawing. Hamilton skillfully maneuvers the story back and forth through time, at once creating the character’s Milford childhood and then showing what his life as a successful “box man” is like. The lock picking details make the book much more interesting and memorable, but it’s the unforgettable character of Mike who will probably stay with you. Hamilton delivers a fast paced, well crafted story that will also break your heart.

False Mermaid, Erin Hart. If I were pressed, I would have to say this was my favorite book of the year - in my initial review I said that the best books are read with a lump in your throat, thanks to a combination of emotion, narrative and character. The third in Hart’s fine Nora Gavin series, this is just such a book. Hart’s time off has matured and deepened her writing even more - which is saying a lot. In this one she weaves together myth and metaphor to tell the surface-simple story of Nora returning home to Minnesota from Ireland to find out who was responsible for her sister’s five year old murder. Grief and distance have created an estrangement between Nora and her parents; she’s coming home to old family entanglements that have to be dealt with as well. Hart is a writer who has many similarities to Elizabeth George, P.D. James, Louise Penny and Deborah Crombie, with a similar skill set of complex character development and a story that accumulates more depth as the book progresses. She also shares some of Penny’s poetry. This is a compelling and well crafted story of grief and attachment, highlighted by lovely writing. Welcome back to a major talent.

Snakes Can’t Run, Ed Lin. For me, Ed Lin wins points for originality, but he’s also a flat out terrific writer. There are layers of thoughtful storytelling here, all drawing a richly detailed picture of life in New York City’s Chinatown in the late 70's as Vietnam Vet Robert Chow works his beat as a cop. Robert, an ABC (American Born Chinese), is pulled in all sorts of directions, and it’s partly this difficult journey of self discovery that makes this book so rich. But also excellent is Lin’s detailed look at the different classes of Chinese society; his story, centering on snakeheads smuggling illegal immigrants illuminating his theme perfectly. The book is noir in that almost everyone in it is corrupt or untrustworthy. The matter of fact way Lin tells his story belies the richness of character and setting that make this book a standout. You won’t forget Robert Chow anytime soon.

Slow Fire, Ken Mercer. While I’m not a huge noir fan, I admit it’s power. This book is pretty noir, though it’s central character, Will Magowan, taking a last ditch job as sheriff of a tiny California town, is a very appealingly flawed and heartbroken one. Will has come to town to help solve a persistent meth problem, about the most noirish problem there could be in the modern storytelling lexicon. One of the things I really liked about this book is that it could have gone the way of a more literary type thriller - and Mercer has the writing chops to head that direction - but by full heartedly embracing the genre, he soars into the stratosphere with his story, which is full of classic noir elements and mystery tropes (ex-wife, powerful bad guy, newbie detective partner, doubtful city official). He soars by making Will so indelible, and by the sheer force of his storytelling. I guess that’s called passion, and it’s great to see no matter what form it takes.

Bury Your Dead, Louise Penny. So far Louise hasn’t made a misstep, but far from being just “not a misstep”, this now (probably) mid series novel is instead a knockout. It’s set in beautiful Quebec city at the Literary and Historical library there. Gamache has come to Quebec to recover from a trauma that’s teased out throughout the novel, and along the way he literally comes across a body in the basement when one is discovered in the library. Weaving together several plot lines, one about the missing Samuel de Champlain - Quebec’s founder, about whom surprisingly little is known - one about Gamache’s grief and another involving Three Pines, Penny’s now well established skills are all on display. She is really wonderful at making a complicated interweaving of plots completely compelling and moving, and as always, her prose simply sparkles. She is one of the most beautiful writers of just plain prose, in my opinion, in all of contemporary mystery fiction. There’s not much not to like here, and this far into the series, there are lots of other readers who agree with me. Gamache and Three Pines have seduced many a reader, and this one is another love letter from his creator.

A Curtain Falls, Stefanie Pintoff. I flat out love Stefanie Pintoff’s books. People compare her turn of the century New York City books to Caleb Carr’s, but I think it won’t be long before that’s the other way around. She certainly has a more concise way of telling a story. She’s terrific at character, she’s terrific at plot, and she’s got a great sense of narrative drive. The details of 19th century New York are simply a bonus - this is a good book that also happens to be an historical. She is also able to take that most overused of tropes, the serial killer, and make it fresh. In this one, the killer, who is plucking Broadway beauties and arranging them artfully after death, leaves notes and letters for the newspapers. Along the way she explores the new science of hand writing analysis, as well as the burgeoning growth of the Great White Way. Even better, her series character, Detective Simon Ziele, is so well drawn and likeable he’s bound to make the series stronger.

On the Line, S.J. Rozan. While I enjoy S.J. Rozan in general, one of the things I truly enjoy about her is the fact that each of her books are so different. One of the ways she does this is her unique shifting narrator concept, which allows her a different voice in each book. In this one, a Bill Smith entry, Lydia has been kidnaped and Bill has 12 hours to find her. Rozan’s deft mix of humor, suspense and great characters tied to an always surprising plotline make this book not only a stand out read, but an absolute blast. Absolute blasts are rare - so I also owe Rozan a thank you. There were few books I plain enjoyed so much all year.

Favorite Discovery: The Detroit Electric Scheme, D.E. Johnson. This book was a delightful surprise. Johnson’s historical novel set in 1910 Detroit takes place as the car business was being born. He really captures the creativity and vitality of what was going on as the automobile was being refined and invented, and I say this as someone whose main interest in cars is getting in one, turning a key, and having it start. He’s also a good, dark storyteller, whose main character, Will Anderson, is the somewhat troubled son of the owner of an electric car company. It’s of course ironic to read about the decline of electric cars back in 1910 as they now seem like the future. When the main problem with gasoline cars -starting them - was resolved, this left electric cars, with their mileage limitations, in the dust. The story starts when Will find the dead body of his ex-fiancee’s fiancee horribly mutilated in a hydraulic press on the floor of his father’s company. His clumsy attempts to cover this up end up making him the prime suspect. While this isn’t a true noir - Will has some good qualities - it’s pretty darn close. Will’s journey of self discovery and detection is a very compelling one. I liked that Johnson’s history lesson concerns not the ways people lived (though of course that’s included to some degree), but the ways business was done in 1910. It’s fascinating. Will is an interesting enough character to carry many installments. Johnson is especially deft at creating not just his main character, but an array of characters, and he really makes you feel like you are back in 1910. This is a wonderful first effort.

November 26, 2010

Congratulations. If you're reading this, it means you've opted out of the Black Friday craziness and didn't rush out of the house at 4am to get great deals on things you probably wouldn't have bought otherwise. Good for you!

But now you're probably thinking, "What am I going to do about holiday gifts?"

In my neighborhood, all the local business do a "Holiday Shopping Night" to encourage people to buy local and support small business owners. For one night, everything at every store is at least 10% off, the bars offer wine and beer to-go, and everyone is able to get their holiday shopping done with a drink in-hand and without the crazy crowds.

This year, I thought, "How can we do this with books?" And with the help of Sheffield's bar, the Newberry Library Bookstore, and 4 fantastic authors, I was able to pull it off.

I know what you're thinking, "What do I care? I don't live in Chicago!"

Here's the best part: you can still get PERSONALIZED, signed copies, because the Newberry Library Bookstore is taking orders. You can call 312.255.3520 or e-mail javier@semcoop.com, tell them which books you want and how you'd like them signed, and we'll have them shipped to you in time for the holidays!

(I heard if you get one of Marcus's books, he'll include a lock of his hair)

So place your orders by December 1st and rest at ease knowing that all your holiday shopping has been taken care of!

November 25, 2010

Bidding is closed, and Paula swooped in at the last second with a winning big of $444. However, since Deb had it in the bag Eastern-time, I'm offering her a critique, too, if she's ok with waiting until February.

Thanks to all the bidders! This went so well, I may just have to do it again sometime. :)

Original post:
I love my job, and I am intensly grateful that I've been given the opportunities that brought me to, essentially, reading books all day long.

Today I want to say thank you to everyone who has supported me, taken a chance on me, and encouraged me. I want to give back.

So from today until next Thursday at 5pm cst, I'm opening bidding on a Thanksgiving manuscript edit. Any genre, any word count up to 120,000. The highest bid wins a full manuscript edit, and I promise to have the edit finished by the new year.

Please make your bids in the comments section of this post. I'll confirm with the winning bidder on Friday, and then he/she may donate the full amount of his/her bid to any book-related charity or program. Once I have confirmation of the donation, I'll start in on the edit.

Bid away! And think of which charity you'd like to support -- and if you don't win the edit, consider making a donation anyway.

November 24, 2010

I knew my attempt to provide actual information from the sharp end last week would provoke a reaction. It did, though not the one I expected.

I thought some people might ask why small publishers do it at all, since there’s no money in it and it’s a constant struggle against the odds. And I half-thought there might be some cries of disbelief when I pointed out that 4 pence (or 4 cents) per copy profit is on the high side.

Not so. What it did raise was questions. (Thank you, Michael. I hope you don’t mind me going public with your queries, rather than offering an inadequate response in a reply to your comment.) To be honest, trying to find workable answers to those very questions was one of the parts of the job which made me tear my hair and reach for the headache pills, and definitely one of the causes of the sense of relief that accompanied all the regrets about giving up.

But I’ll try. Because I think people deserve honest answers to questions, and I’d like to think more people than Michael were wondering about these issues.

OK, here goes.

How do you establish price?

Usually by looking at the costs, then at the rest of the market. Nothing is gained by pricing higher than the competition; pricing lower can make people wonder if the product is inferior.

Would lowering price increase sales enough to raise your profit?

Doubtful. See above. People buy the books they want to read, not the ones that are a pound cheaper than the others. Cutting the price can act as an initial draw, but it’s a short-term strategy; if the customer doesn’t like what s/he gets, there’s no ongoing sales benefit.

Would raising price decrease sales too much and lower profit?

Probably, especially in the market sector we were in. Since we were trying to launch authors no one had heard of yet, readers would have asked why ours were worth more than the better known ones.

What format is most profitable and which has the smallest cost, the trade paper or mass market paperback?

It all depends how many copies you sell, or expect to sell. Copy for copy, mass market A-format costs less to produce; trade paperback brings in a slightly higher margin. But reader perception is that trade paperback is a higher quality product (usually true in terms of format, far less often in terms of content), so it attracts a different kind of reader.

Isn't this decision one of the hardest for the publisher?

No, not really. You decide what kind of book you’re going to publish and pitch your format accordingly.

Warehousing, paper, and shipping costs are reasons eBook supporters always cite as why an eBook should cost less than print. How does the cost of formatting and downloading compare?

Obviously they cost less – but these are a long way from the only costs incurred in producing a book. Aside from editing, cover design (an eBook still needs a cover), marketing and overheads like the day-to-day running of the office, conventional publishers pay authors advances on royalties with absolutely no guarantee that those advances are ever going to be earned back. Besides, whatever Amazon and the sensational press claim, eBooks are still a long way from replacing print books in number of sales.

For the small press that can not afford to publish in more than one format, are eBooks the cheapest format to publish alone?

I’ve yet to see any figures that confirm this.

Are sales for eBooks large enough to take advantage in the drop of cost?

What drop in cost? At the moment eBooks cost the same as a paperback, and I doubt this will change any time soon. This would seem to confirm that eBook sales have a long way to go before they outstrip print sales.

Or in other words would the sales of a paperback have more sales than the e-book version so the profit at the end is higher despite the higher cost?

At the moment eBook sales of a very few titles may be higher than paperback sales, but in total eBook sales are still struggling to match those of hardback. Don’t believe everything you see in the news media!

Give it a year or two and the picture may be very different. For the time being eReader technology has a long way to go before it settles into a sensible pattern: too many formats, too many manufacturers all pulling against each other. Competition is healthy, splitting the market in half a dozen conflicting directions is less so. And there are still plenty of us old-fashioned technophobes around; the print book isn’t going to die while I’m still alive!

November 23, 2010

Okay, don’t forget, this Thursday will of course be The Fifth Annual Poelle Polish Turkey Trot and Gobble Wobble 5K™

Remember: The rules are fairly straightforward. All you have to do is start walking/jogging and then if 3.2 miles later you are on your third rum toddy, who cares? As long as you wobble over the finish line you are still a competitor. And because running a 5K on the morning of a holiday feast negates any calories consumed later that day, we all come out winners.

You're welcome.

In the meantime, here are some pithy publishing lessons....as taught by turkeys. Enjoy them and the holiday!

Oh, and anyone who would like to entertain me in the comments with your own devised conversation between Ted and Tom above, feel free. There might be prizes. There will be drinking. You decide.

November 22, 2010

This past week, I typed the words "THE END" on my spec work-in-progress, which my superlative agent is reading even as we speak (Right, Josh???). And that sense of accomplishment, that feeling of having conquered the demons after weeks/months of work, hides an impulse so perilous it's a little scary to even blog about it here.

Oh, you know what I'm talking about; don't be coy. If you've ever written so much as a really good email that you'd been thinking about a while, you know exactly what I mean. You finish that creation, no matter what it is, and your first thought is, "I've gotta send this thing out NOW!!!"

Don't.

I know, you've been self-editing since you started. You begin every writing day looking at the words you wrote the day before, and closing those loopholes, changing those awkward word choices, strengthening those new characters, dropping those little red herrings that will drive your readers mad with anticipation once they get a look at this. You're sure--this is the perfect form of your story. You've cobbled it together lovingly and carefully, never coasting and never settling for the second-best choice. You've done exactly what you set out to do. So it's ready to get sent to that agent, that editor, that publisher. This is what's going to make your mark on the world.

Sit down. Take a deep breath. And then walk away from the keyboard, my friend. You're not thinking rationally right now. You're working on a rush of serotonin and adrenalin. You're high on your own writing. And when you come down from this ego-driven state, you'll realize there's still plenty of work to be done.

Editing--it's not just for editors anymore.

Having taken the past three days going over my "perfect" manuscript and having thanked unseen forces countless times for not allowing me to send THAT steaming pile of mediocrity to anyone who could make a real-world career decision about it, I am living proof that every writer MUST edit and re-write.

Writing, besides being a job (and some would argue, an adventure, but they're silly) is an emotional experience. For the writer. Hopefully, someday it will be one for the reader, too, but we haven't gotten that far yet. In order to make the story work, the writer has to be seriously involved in it emotionally. In order to write the scene, it's necessary to place yourself in that scene mentally. We traffic, after all, in imagination.

So when I write a scary scene, I have to believe in it enough--not really, like I think I'm there, but close--that I have the anxiety. When I'm writing a scene where the character is feeling determined, I have to experience ambition and drive. On the days I write love scenes, my wife tries to find out early and book a meeting at work that will last into the evening, so she can come home late and exhausted. (Too much information?)

This all leads up to the idea that once the work is done, there is real emotion on the page (screen). So when I type "THE END," I'm ready to send that puppy out and let it take on the world.

November 21, 2010

Thinking about the types of characters who populate mystery novels has also gotten me thinking about what would have happened if some of my favorite non-mystery writing authors had decided to dabble in the genre.

The Plot Against American Idol, by Philip Roth - The Fox channel is mysteriously going dark on televisions in Newark, NJ at precisely 8:00 PM on Tuesday evenings, seriously harming the chances of victory for Weequahic rapper Shawn Walker, an American Idol contender otherwise known as "McCarter H." Covering the story is Nathan Zuckerman, recently hired as an arts and entertainment writer for the Star Ledger. While wandering the streets of Newark looking for clues, Zuckerman accidently bumps into the real Philip Roth, creating an irreparable tear in the time/space continuum just south of Clinton Avenue.

Reading Death in Venice can be Murder, by Thomas Mann - Unpublished novelist and European literature professor Gustav von Aschenbach is demoralized by the fact that he has recently been denied tenure at the third tier midwestern state university where he has worked for the past three years. Soon afterward, students enrolled in European Lit 101 start disappearing from campus. Desperately looking for clues, campus police discover a common thread: all of the missing students were found to have sent one or more text messages during the time they were sitting in the rear of Professor von Aschenbach's class. Cafeteria worker and part time criminal justice student Tadzio is the only one who will believe that Gustav is innocent.

Little Women, Big Hair, by Louisa May Alcott - The first installment in a zany new series finds vertically challenged sisters, Meg, Jo, Beth and Amy working at "March Right In," the iconic Seaside Heights, NJ hair salon which the sisters have had specially outfitted to accommodate their diminutive stature. When Laurie (the guy who sweeps the floor) and Snookie (the manicurist) fail to show up for work one day, foul play is suspected. Will a comment that appeared on Jo's blog the evening before the disappearances be held against her? Working together, the sisters plan to get to the root of the problem.

It Can't Happen Here but it Just Did, Whatever..., by Sinclair Lewis - The opening of a medical marijuana dispensary right across the street from the Shady Acres Assisted Living Facility is initally met with ambivalence by its residents. However, when perky social director Mary Jane Levy is noticed to be spending more and more time in the community gardens at just about the same time that Yahtzee score sheets start disappearing from the community game room, tongues start to wag. The fact that resident curmudgeon Cheech Marin seems strangely disinterested only heightens the curiosity.

November 20, 2010

One of my dear friends has lately realized a long held dream - she went back for a quick, intensive course, and she is now working as an art department assistant on the set of a movie being filmed here in Michigan. This is her third film and third set. I knew once they found out how great she was she would probably have lots of work thrown her way, and that's been the case. (I miss her, though!)

The newest film she's working on apparently has a bookstore scene complete with book signing, so what she asked was to borrow 20 books of the same size that they would re-cover for the "book signing." I was surprised, with a basement (and store) full of books, how actually difficult it was to pull 20 hardcovers of the same size.

Working with some old Parnell Hall hardcovers as my "gold standard" I worked my way through our basement pulling and discarding hardcovers. Some of our books over time have acquired a slight slant, so those were discarded, as were older books that had yellowed a tinge with age. All of them were dusty. As I worked, again with Parnell as my gold standard, I began to curse authors who were too wordy - yes, that's you Faye Kellerman! - or more concise, even, than Parnell. The books had to be the same thickness as well as the same height.

Some authors start with "small" hardcovers (I heard Louise Penny wonder out loud at a panel if her first novel had "shrunk in the laundry"). That size couldn't be considered either. I was able to actually find 30, though of course the board edges are different colors. I don't think that will matter..

I threw in a few book stands as she'd asked what I had on a book signing table. Anyway my books are getting their "close up." They are paying for the ones they "ruin" with Topher Grace's signature. And we get a credit at the end of the final film, which is cool! I think we're also supplying the books for a loft apartment scene a bit later. I KNEW our basement full of first editions would come in handy at some point!

November 19, 2010

I’m often told, “You don’t sound like a publicist” and I’m often asked, “Why are you different than other publicists I’ve met?”

When I got my start, I knew I couldn’t be the same as the heavy hitters in my field. They have the connections that come from working in the business for years and it’s impossible to compete. I needed to identify what made me different and therefore more appealing, and the answer was obvious: I see publicity differently.

The old school method of publicity is to solicit reviews in magazines and newspapers, book radio interviews, and if you have the platform, land some television appearances. This is what most in-house publicists do for the 20-30 books that come across their desks every month. This is what authors have grown to expect from publicists, in-house or otherwise.

But the world has changed drastically in the past 5 years. Newspapers are dying off, folks are listening to podcasts instead of live radio, TV is viewed on computers, and most information is found online. Therefore, online marketing and publicity can be more effective than the old-school techniques, and knowing gives me an edge.

It doesn’t stop there. The world of book buyers has also decreased, so catering to that diminishing community isn’t enough to create a viral campaign and make my client a household name. Less and less people are seeking information about books. Therefore, I believe it’s important to go beyond the folks reading reviews or listening to author interviews.

The people who visit these sites aren’t looking for information on books, but that doesn’t mean they don’t read. In fact, this targeted online publicity can be way more effective than placing a book review in a newspaper. These articles reach a new audience, an audience who may not have a huge to-be-read pile and could get to the book a lot quicker than most avid readers.

I have authors approach me all the time asking, “Can you get me on Oprah?” or “Can you get me a New York Times review?” I’ll always say no, and it’s my personal opinion that any publicist who gives a definitive yes is lying. For me, it’s more than the issue of guaranteeing coverage (which no one can do), it’s about seeing the bigger picture. One review in the NYT may not sell as many books as 20 targeted blog reviews will.

Even though I started with a blank rolodex and a bunch of crazy ideas, those crazy ideas are what set me apart from the rest of the publicists. Some authors prefer old school, and that’s fine. Some publicists prefer to spend their time booking radio and chasing down newspaper editors, and that’s fine too. For me, if book publicity was formulaic, I wouldn’t want to do it. The ability to be creative and think outside the box is what drew me to the occupation in the first place, and now, it’s what sets me apart from the rest of the pack.

November 18, 2010

I'm heading on a boat that will take me to a beach on an island (please let there be no smoke monsters), and aside from a bevy of manuscripts under consideration, I'm bringing a Tasha Alexandar book and a Booth Tarkington book.

November 17, 2010

Honest, that’s what this is. Though I have a feeling some people won’t believe it…

The book trade seems to be a bottomless source of myths. One is that publishers pay a six-figure advance every time they accept a manuscript. (OK, enough with the hail of missiles; that one only exists among very, very inexperienced writers.) Another is that publishers spend half the day enjoying a long, boozy lunch. I wish… Then there’s the one about publication being a guarantee that multiple copies of your book will appear in every bookshop in the land…

My favourite is this one: the author gets a ten percent royalty on every copy sold – so the publisher gets ninety percent. Which is why most writers are desperately poor, all publishers are obscenely wealthy, and I’m spending this weekend on my luxury yacht in the Caribbean, and not doing the laundry and hunting down bargains at the supermarket.

OK, in response to popular demand – well, three requests – here’s the reality, as experienced by a former small publisher.

A little background first: small publisher usually equals small print run – two to three thousand is about average, at least here in the UK. All the costs have to be spread across the number of copies printed, so the larger the print run the thinner they’re spread. But the object of the exercise is to demonstrate that life is not easy for small publishers. Here goes.

Cover price: £7.99

American Dead Guy followers can translate that into dollars; since a mass market paperback over there usually costs $7.99, that works too.

Out of the cover price the publisher pays:

Author’s royalty: about 60p per copy. It’s actually 7½% on paperbacks, not 10.

Warehousing and distribution costs, which covers storing the printed copies and fulfilling orders from bookshops: anything between 75p and £1.25 per copy.

So far so profitable. Even taking the high end of warehousing and distribution costs as the norm, the publisher is still picking up well over half the cover price: a pretty healthy margin.

Hold your horses; I haven’t finished yet. Here’s the biggie.

Discount to booksellers: anything between 35% and 60% of cover price – at best £2.80, at worst £4.80 per copy, depending whether it was a friendly independent bookshop or one of the big wholesalers or chains.

So after direct costs – the money laid out on the book itself – from a cover price of £7.99, best case scenario is the small publisher puts £2.54 in the bank.

Worst case is, ahem, 4p.

Those figures assumed that we sold every copy we printed. If we didn’t, the total cost per copy went up.

And I haven’t begun to add in costs like promoting the books, keeping the website up to date, accountancy, paying the office electricity bill. And as for taking a salary… I’m sure you get the picture.

The secret of success, it appears, is bigger print runs, so that those costs are spread a lot thinner. But that means selling a lot more books. And that’s where Lady Luck takes a hand. Every small publisher dreams of a Harry Potter. Which, I suppose, is why, against all the odds, there are still a lot of small publishers.

November 16, 2010

I returned from debauchery and a subsequent liver transplant to a few grumblings that my last entry was “TL, DR”. Since I refuse to acknowledge acronyms, I can only assume that means, “Totally Lambastic, Don’t Re-Sober!” (Yes, only two of those words are recognized as English, but that’s what acronyms are for, to take the place of English.)

However, someone else informed me it meant “Too Long, Didn’t Read.”

Well, Excuuuuuuuuse me! I will try and make sure I keep my [redacted] publishing advice to a [air horn sound] minimum. Perhaps they were referring to the overall execution of such entry. All I can say, is I thought it was HILARIOUS. And if you haven’t caught on by now, I tend to prattle on mostly for my own amusement, and if a few pertinent and helpful publishing facts fall out of my fingers, it certainly is no fault of mine.

So, here you go. The new and improved short version me. Think of it as ten tweets. Ahem:

After a recent vitriolic diatribe regarding a certain contract point, my mother’s voice suddenly came into my head with a familiar, “Barbie honey, a simple ‘no thank you’ would suffice.”

It got me thinking, and sure enough, everything we need to know about writing came from our mothers!

Watch:

Mother: “Well, if Missy Sarver jumped off the Brooklyn Bridge would you want to?”

Translation: No matter what an author to your right or to your left is doing, you have your own plot and your OWN style to respect. Feel free to appreciate and admire others, but stay true to the organic intent of your work.

Mother: “You keep making that face and it is going to stay that way.”

Translation: Misery feeds misery. There are so many shifting plates in the foundation of publishing, you have to remember to meet each one as a single issue, and not allow a quake to shake up your big picture. Sure, it’s okay to allow yourself to be rattled by an initial disappointment, that is understandable, just don’t carry it into the next area of opportunity. (Yes, that is what I call horrific publishing events: “areas of opportunity”. I know. It’s like I shot and skinned Pollyanna and am wearing her still moist husk around the office.)

Mother: "Are you really going out like that?"

Translation: If you are going to leave the house all whored up like a syphilitic trollop, that is how people will see you. You want to always put your best professional foot forward, (yes, this coming from the chick who was once leading a conga line at a national conference) that goes for on the page as well as in social media outlets and in person at conferences.

Mother: “If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all.”

Yes, it can be infuriating when you see someone else on the playground getting all the toys and attention, but that's no reason to push them into the sandbox or tell everyone they're still wetting their bed at age 10. For one thing, as we've discussed, publishing is not a zero-sum game. There are enough toys to go around. And for another, a whispering campaign tends to ricochet, and you might end up labeled the playground bitch yourself.

Translation: Research, research, research. Whether you are working on true crime or fiction, make sure your facts are grounded in reality. Is this particular style of gun able to sport an infrared scope? Do old prison gates swing inward or outward? Did the courts allow DNA testing as evidence in 1987? The worst thing you can do to a reader is to trick them into thinking you are leaving a package of plot twist gems at their door only to have them find out it is actually flaming dog poop.

November 15, 2010

I've figured out how to fix the economy, and it can't possibly fail: Let's turn the financial stewardship of the country over to the people who run the New York Yankees. Think about it: Every year they spend money like drunken sailors, and still manage to make a profit so huge they can continue to do so for the foreseeable future. Isn't that the kind of leadership we need?

What's a bodkin, and what makes them so odd? (Hint: the picture to the right is of a bodkin.)

Okay, here's the deal, people: Whether you think the country went to Hell in a handbasket in 2008 or the beginning of this month, the fact of the matter is that there will probably still be a United States of America in four years or so. Will it be perfect? Of course not. Could it be better? Hell yeah. But is the end coming? Not anytime soon. Cool your jets.

When I see reviews of a book or a movie that uses the word "devastating" or the word "shattering," I wonder what those critics think we look for in entertainment. "Let's go out tonight, honey--I understand this movie will completely shatter me emotionally and leave me a devastated wreck." "Sounds great; I'll get my purse!"

Bill Maher, whose opinions I share more often than not but whose persona leaves me somewhat cold, called out Jon Stewart for not being biased enough at the Rally to Restore Sanity. That's sort of like Dr. Sanjay Gupta complaining that Gregory House is unfairly cold to his patients. It wasn't a real political rally, Bill!

People ask me if I prefer they buy my books on paper or in e-book form. If you want to read my book, I don't care if you buy it as a series of adorable samplers. Just buy the book!

I'm cranky because it's no longer baseball season. I'm 53 years old and the lack of the Yankees on my TV screen every night unnerves me. Can therapy help ?

I have a story in the current issue of Alfred Hitchcock's Mystery Magazine (it's called THE GUN ALSO RISES, and starts on page 130, but hey, no pressure). Now, I'm aware that Alfred has been dead for quite some time now, and that he never really had much to do with the magazine even while still breathing, but having my work in anything with his name on it is a kick. I have been a Hitch fan since I was about 11 years old.

Is it ominous that reading my own writing makes me sleepy?

I practice regularly and try very hard. I enjoy the experience and I have improved. But the fact remains that I could take lessons and work day and night at my playing for the next 20 years, and I would end up as a decent amateur guitarist who can't just make the instrument make whatever sound is in my head. I remind myself of this whenever I read writing by people who do something else for a living because that other thing is what they're good at.

I'll get rid of my landline when they make a cell phone that sounds as clear and is as reliable as a landline. Or when they stop making landlines.

Every year my family goes to a movie and for Chinese food on Christmas day. The jockeying for choice of movie usually starts around Labor Day. This year, nobody's so much as suggested a title yet. Uh-oh.

By the way, on a holiday note: Chanukah starts on DECEMBER FIRST? Whose idea was THAT?

And when Santa Claus starts showing up in TV commercials before the end of the World Series, something has gone seriously wrong in this world. I realize I'm on the outside looking in, but Christians, you need to scale back. Having a 12-month holiday season would not be a healthy thing.

On the topic of baseball, this is the time of year when free agents are being wooed. They will tell you it's not about the money. It's about the money. They will tell you they have to consult their families. It's about the money. They will tell you it's always been their dream to play for this franchise. It's about the money.

They will take the money, and then some of them will be truly awful no matter what they're paid. But it was about the money.

And just to clarify--if publishers were waving tens, in some cases hundreds of millions of dollars in my face to write a book, I will tell you directly--it would be about the money. Yes, it would. And I'd be happy to cash the check.

I'm done with The Office. It's become a show about people who are serially unpleasant to each other for no discernible reason. Enough. I've just freed up 22 minutes of my week.

You should take a look at The Good Men Project Magazine. Not only is it a terrific idea that sends its revenues to excellent causes, they let me write for them on occasion, as well.

I'm writing two books at the same time, and I've never done that with two novels before. One's a spec book, so naturally I'm closer to finishing that one. And it's always exciting when you're coming in for a landing. Hopefully I'll be able to do that twice in the next six weeks.

November 14, 2010

As a reader, I'd like to put in my own two cents about the type of characters who are featured in mystery novels. For the very reason that mysteries deal with the misdeads of the depraved and/or morally damaged, it appears to be a convention of the genre to provide a counterbalance to that by including crime solving characters who are so sympathetically drawn that most readers can easily identify with them. In the audiobooks I have recently listened to, I have encountered the following:

1. A detective with a wife suffering from depression and/or early onset Alzheimers.

2. A detective whose wife left him because he was too absorbed in his work.

3. A divorced police officer who only gets to spend one weekend a month with his kid.

4. A crime novelist who is accused of murdering his ex-fiance but who has no memory of the crime because he was suffering from a brain tumor.

5. A snarky tv crime reporter who eventually sees the error of her ways.

Does anyone beside me see the pattern here? Because this appears to be so extraordinarily obvious, I have decided to come up with a short list of potential character scenarios should I ever decide to write my own crime novel. Submitted for your amusement...

1. A middle aged newspaper reporter keeps accidentally hitting the delete button instead of save when he receives important emails; his 500 page expose of criminal activity in Kokomo, Indiana has yet to find a publisher. His wife has left him for a professional rugby player and is filing for divorce.

2. The 37 year old widowed father of adorable 5 year old identical twin daughters works in the county sheriff"s office. He has taken in his recently widowed but feisty father-in-law to help him look after the girls. The household also includes a three legged golden retriever who was adopted from the animal shelter to help take everyone's minds off of their own troubles.

3. A 42 year old childless divorcee uses her job as an attorney for children's protective services as a distraction from the unrelenting loneliness of her existence. She keeps two orange tabbys in her condo that she has named Pepto and Bismol.

4. An arthritic but otherwise healthy 78 year old widowed former cop is estranged from his only son and grandchildren due to a long ago misunderstanding about who was supposed to provide the turkey for a family Thanksgiving dinner. He has, therefore, come to regard his former colleagues at the precinct as his surrogate family. He is also a little sweet on a gravelly voiced, brassy blond 59 year old crossing guard named Dot.

5. A middle aged female reference librarian who works evenings as the somelier at the Zagat rated restaurant next door uses the Internet to help a handsome young undercover agent thwart an attempt to overthrow the federal government.

Okay, so maybe I'd better not quit my day job just yet.

Anybody else out there want to share their ideas for characters they would like to see?

November 13, 2010

I guess in my job I'm insulated from certain things. For a woman, reaching a "certain age" often also means "invisible", especially if you resist hair color, as I do. In my job many of my own customers are woman of, ahem, a certain age - I often actually feel young - so this is not something I give a thought to too often. I admit when a kind of cool looking rasta type on the street said "Old grey head! You a librarian?" I was taken aback but I go about my day to day business sometimes actually relishing being invisible.

This is not always the case, however. I was in a Best Buy recently looking for a wireless router because ours had died. And there you have the extent of my knowledge of wireless routers. I was standing there looking cluelessly as a box containing, probably, a wireless router, but I had no idea. My husband had confidently told me that morning "Oh, just go to Best Buy. They'll be happy to tell you which is a good one."

As I stood, lonely and unloved, I noticed a fellow wearer of the invisibility cloak, a nice, intelligent, eyeglass wearing, grey hair sporting woman of a fellow "certain age." We nodded to each other in absolute recognition, and since no one else was talking to us, we approached each other. Hardly a word needed to be spoken, as we knew what was on each other's minds. We were doomed to complete cluelessness and lack of assistance.

My fellow traveler said, "Just watch, they'll go help all the guys first." She was mostly right, but they also made a beeline for an attractive much younger woman (watch it baby, your cloak is coming). After those all had been helped an employee finally noticed us standing there and came over to help.

He helpfully explained that there were several kinds of routers - "G" and "N' ("nice" and "good"? Just asking) and apparently he helped me pick an acceptable choice as my husband seemed satisfied with my selection. As I was checking out I noticed the attractive young woman breezing ahead of me through the door, her purchase complete.

In the "Princess Diaries" someone actually sits on Princess Mia without noticing her before her makeover moment. She also is invisible before she dons her tiara. Well, I'm here to tell you, I am far too old for a tiara, but being old has certain perks. I feel much free-er about speaking up and when I do, I don't mind NOT mincing my words. So if you hear a squawk coming out of an apparently uninhabited corner, watch out. It's probably just an intelligent grey haired woman of a certain age.

November 12, 2010

It’s hard to believe that I started Kaye Publicity less two years ago. I’ve worked on 30 campaigns, have 18 active clients, and have obtained close to a hundred reviews/features/interviews, all in 21 months.

And all without a plan.

Most small business owners draw up a detailed business plan, outline their 5 year growth structure, apply for loans, get licenses, jump through hoops and cut through red tape. Me? I just uttered four simple words with confidence.

“I’ll be your publicist.”

Most authors I know are the same way. They write a book and try to sell it. If it sells, they write another. If they get a new offer, they write a new book. They don’t have a 5-year plan unless they have a 5-book contract.

But as the girlfriend of an accountant, I know that I should learn from other small business owners, so this month’s project has been coming up with a 5-year growth plan. I’d paste it here, but that would just bore you to tears. Instead, here are some questions authors can ask themselves to figure out where they are and where they want to be:

What is your current standing as an author?

How many books have you published this year?

How many books did you sell?

What foreign rights have you sold?

How many speaking engagements did you book?

How many media appearances did you have? How many reviews?

What did you earn from writing this year?

Where do you want to be this time next year?

How many books do you want to publish?

How many books do you want to sell?

Do you want to sell to foreign markets?

What about film rights?

Do you want to book paid speaking engagements? Land the keynote spot at a book festival?

Do you want to land a feature in your paper? Have your first TV interview?

Where do you want to be in five years?

Do you want to publish more books per year?

Do you want to break into a new genre? Write a new series?

Do you want to do an extensive book tour?

Do you want a series of TV or radio interviews?

Do you want to double your sales? Land a spot on a bestseller list? Earn an award nomination?

Once you’ve answered these questions, then strategize with your agent and/or publicist and figure out what needs to be done to make those things happen. Sometimes, in order to accomplish your 5-year goals, you have to put things in motion now.

November 11, 2010

The thing about oceans is that though blood gets dispersed in the water, it never really goes away.

Think about your character like this: He is a very small ocean when he's young and inexperienced. As he moves through time and experiences life, the coasts surrounding him widen, and the sea floor drops. His ocean gets bigger as his character grows, containing more saltwater.

Now think about the formative events of his life -- the stuff that happened to him before the story you're telling in your manuscript. The kinds of things that led to the quirks and traits he possesses in the the story you're telling. There was that time when he was twelve and he fell out of a treehouse onto a beehive and now if he eats food made with honey he absently swats the air and cries a little. The time in college when there was a fire alarm in the middle of the night, and it was the night he lost his virginity, and he and his girlfriend had to go outside in thier underpants and it was highly embarassing and so now when he hears fire alarms he reflexively checks to make sure he's wearing pants.

Imagine each of those events as a drop of colored liquid in the character ocean. The larger the impact of the event, the larger the drop, and the more viscous the liquid.

He forgot his bus pass Monday morning and so was late to work? Quarter-sized drop of cranberry juice.

He forgot his anniversary and so his wife made him sleep on the couch for a week? Baseball-sized drop of Yo-J (which, you guys, is seriously one of the best drinks ever invented and I don't drink enough of it because they don't sell it at the coop where I shop -- also, I once had an intern whose dad helped invent Yo-J and I kinda freaked out on her a little bit).

He forgot to lock the back door one night when sneaking out to go gambling, and an opportunistic burgler took advantage of the unlocked door, but was surprised by your character's sleeping wife, and in the ensuing struggle she's killed? Blue-whale-sized drop of oil.

As time goes by and your character goes on living, the cranberry juice, Yo-J, and oil will float, disperse, and eventually disappear, but at vastly different rates. The effects of a forgotten bus pass will be gone the next day. That oil representing his wife's death will be there for a long, long time, dense and terrible and overwhelming at first, and clumps may break off and drift miles away, to be unhappily encountered much later, when the character thought he'd been through the worst of it.

And it's not just the immediate, most recently dropped pool of liquid that will inform your character's actions, behaviours, and perceptions. Every drop of liquid, even when dispersed, will have changed the overall makeup of the character ocean. Wave patterns, currents, the flora and fauna -- everything's related.

Imagine that the other characters in your manuscript are animals in your main character ocean. They exist for him in the context of everything he's experienced so far. Say your main character's wife was a sea turtle, and the oil spill of her home-invasion death happened twenty years before the main action of your story. In your story, a beautiful bottlenose dolphin swims into focus, and wiggles her fins. For your main character, there's no removing this dolphin from the ocean that also contains the oily, decomposed molecules of his sea turtle wife. Yes, it's possible for him to move on, but the sea turtle will always be there.

It's not enough for your main character to have a great backstory -- you have to contextualize that backstory, let it color every bit of your main character, or else it's just a list of things that happened before, and your manuscript is a list of things happening now.

November 10, 2010

You wanted a rant? Here’s a rant. It should probably come with a health warning: stand well back and take precautions against explosion. This rant has been brewing for some time…

I’ve kept well clear of all disputes and discussions about how much an eBook should cost, and how large a royalty the author should get, mainly because when the argument was at its peak my mind was occupied with more urgent matters like should I accept Severn House’s offer and retreat gently into retirement.

But that’s over now; I did accept the offer, and though retirement doesn’t figure among my immediate plans, I no longer have a vested interest in how much anything in the book trade should cost. But like most people who buy books, I do have an opinion. So here it is.

Long ago, years before I was overtaken by insanity and set up a publishing company, here in the UK we had an arrangement called the Net Book Agreement. It meant that books were sold for the cover price: no discounting, no three-for-the-price-of-two offers, no silly prices in the supermarkets. The only cut-price books on sale were remaindered stock, and they were usually confined to small chains of shops which specialised in buying up two- or three-year-old supplies of overstocks. I think something similar still exists to this day in the USA, except maybe the cut-price books are only months old rather than years, and they’re sold in most bookshops, not just specialist ones.

Hand-in-hand with the Net Book Agreement came a kind of gentleman’s agreement between publishers and bookshops about a level of trade discount which meant everyone could make a living. (Another aspect of this was the sale-or-return system, which merits a whole rant of its own, and, dear readers, will get one. Promise.)

Then the Net Book Agreement slowly slipped away. It was never formally abolished; it just… went. Chain bookshops began to run special offers; supermarkets added cheap books to their stock range; Amazon became a major player. The remainder shops went out of business because the conventional books were effectively in direct competition with them. Sale-or-return stayed. More on that at a later date.

The result is that chain bookshops and supermarkets now demand crippling trade discounts and sell at prices which undercut small publishers’ production costs. Small independent bookshops can’t afford to compete and have to fight to survive. Here in the UK we lost one chain bookshop about a year ago and cracks are starting to show in the remaining one, so all is clearly not rosy there either. I suppose book buyers do benefit, and I confess I do buy heavily discounted books myself, but only bestsellers which are guaranteed to earn the author and publisher a decent return. I don’t see sales of books increasing, though; no one I know buys any more just because they’re cheaper. As far as I can see, the only real winners are Amazon and the supermarkets.

And now the argument is happening all over again, with regard to eBooks. Until a few days ago I’d kept so far out of it that I didn’t even know what agency model pricing meant – but then I saw a news item which accused its proponents of going back to the ‘bad old days’ of the Net Book Agreement, and the fog began to lift. Publishers want to set the price themselves. For which please read, publishers want to make a living, just like anyone else.

I can see a certain amount of logic behind the view that the print edition of a book takes care of the production costs, so an eBook edition costs much less to produce. It’s not entirely true, since eBooks incur costs that print editions don’t, but I can see the logic. What I haven’t seen is any clear evidence that eBook sales don’t actually replace print sales, but are additional to them. And with or without agency model pricing, the best available trade discount is still about 50% of cover price, and all costs have to be met out of the publisher’s half. (Have I ever done a breakdown of what it actually costs a small publisher to get a book from manuscript to bookshop shelf? Maybe next week, eh?)

This was going to be a rant about eBook pricing, and it seems to have opened out into one about book pricing in general. Which probably means I’m going to have to provide that breakdown, if only as a shield against some of the flak that’s going to head my way. So excuse me while I go and root out the information I’ll need. It’s going to take me till next week…

November 09, 2010

I hope that your telephone interview this morning with my boss, Barbara Poelle, and her colleague Zolly Woot, went as well as could be considering that Ms. Poelle is in Mexico on her yearly trip to “detox”.

Could you please email me the transcripts for our files?

Best,

IvP

Inga,

Below please find the transcripts from this morning’s interview. It was, uhhh, illuminating?

Best,

Sashay

11/9/2010 Transcripts for Phone Interview (Poelle/Woot.)

Sashay McAdverb: Thank you for agreeing to call in and chat with me a bit for my column.

Zolly Woot: Sure thing! Always a pleasure.

Barbara Poelle: [a sound that might have been a belch into a fist]

SmA: I am just going to read off some commonly asked questions from our readers and then have you answer in a few short lines. If the two of you feel like riffing off into a secondary point or expanding a bit, that is fine too. Let’s just keep it loose. Okay, to begin: I am considering hiring an outside editor to edit my manuscript because that person can then refer me to agents, is this a good idea?

ZW: There seem to be an endless stream of opportunities for a writer to part with their money, aren't there? Here is the skinny: If you hire an editor, you should expect to get edited, nothing more. Moreover, many of these "editors" who will give you "referrals" are really just spamming us with your name attached. Someone who used to work for a publisher you've heard of, regularly received submissions from agents, & has now gone freelance is likely to have legitimate contacts, but intriguingly I don't often hear of these people including referrals in their lists of offered services. Of this you can be sure: A faux-referral from Jimmy Mudpocket, Editor-At-Large with whom I've never spoken will mean as much to me as that offer to hold some money in my account as a favor to an ailing Nigerian prince.

BP: Hmmm? Oh, sorry I couldn’t hear you over the ice melting in this, what is this, a cuba libre? GADS! That man should not be wearing a Speedo. Wait, did we start yet? (muffled: “Jorge, que hay en esto? No importa, Otro ahora!”)

[Pause]

[sound of ZW humming absently and typing on computer]

SmA: [clears throat] Al-alright. Next question: I am considering attending a conference because pitching to an editor or agent in person could get me a deal, is this the best way to secure that?

ZW: Ah, this is one of my absolute LEAST favorite fallacies. I love conferences; done well they can be amazing for writers. But conferences who intimate this sort of thing to their attendees are the conferences publishing professionals dread, because, spoiler alert: No editor or agent can or would make a decision to sign an author based on a five-minute blind pitch. Yes, people who have pitched have gone on to get book deals. So have people who queried, and for that matter people who were on the 10th season of B-list reality shows, but I don't see writers flooding the castings for Who Wants to Eat and/or Marry A Bug.

BP: YAY! Mariachis! Hola! Se puede jugar Maria Isabel? You guys, when we get to the chiri biri bi’s you HAVE to sing along…wait for it….

ZW: Oh! Sorry, no problem, I can expand a bit on the conferences, didn’t mean to be opaque. Okay, so, to tell attendees pitches are the Magic Golden Ticket is deceptive and déclassé, both mortal sins---[ZW abruptly stops mid sentence and seems to make a sound that resembles, “chiri biri bi poro pom pom”]

ZW:…and your hard-earned writer-cash should go to the conferences whose marketing materials focus on the potential for learning, both about the craft and the industry. We publishing professionals like the romance too, you know; it's no fun for us to be barraged by people desperate for a yes. We'd much rather engage as humans. Conferences that treat their professionals like book contract vending machines, or encourage attendees to pitch us anytime, anywhere, or fail to allow for agents and editors' needs for bathroom or water breaks, or generally promote themselves like the newest iteration of MegaMillions PowerBall, should be viewed with a heaping scoop of Death Kitten discretion.

BP: You guys, what color beads should I get in my braids? Tan fuerte, amiga! Yikes, this lady is really yanking my hair….

SmA: [words rushed] Final question: I heard that I should be using Facebook and Twitter to learn about agents and editors. Is that a good idea?

ZW: Certainly, so long as you have a nodding acquaintance with the difference between "learn about" and "stalk." I have been on the receiving end of some business correspondence so rife with attempted familiarity that I wondered if the person on the other end of the email was an FBI negotiator making use of tactics more frequently used to build rapport with crazed gunmen or hostage-takers than with kindly-yet-terrifying lit agents. I believe you do get a sense of a person via social media, but I would not equate "sense of" to "friendship with." Consider the nuggets you've gleaned to be corroborating evidence for estimations you've made based on someone's professional track record. Remember, you are looking for a professional partner, not a bestie, so no matter how shiny our hair is, or how handsome you thought Husband looked Tuesday, let your decisions be guided by your business sense, not your wish to braid friendship bracelets with said individual.

BP: [redacted as, although in Spanish, clearly vulgar] - I can still tweet from here? [phone disconnects]

SmA: Uh, thank you to you both? I- uh, I appreciate what….I think I need a minute to, you know...

ZW: No problem! I hope we gave you a lot to work with there, and feel free to paraphrase where I got too wordy. Let us know if you want to set up another call tomorrow to clarify or confirm anything. Have a great day! [Disconnect]

November 08, 2010

Thanks to the miracle that is Netflix, this past weekend I was able to watch John Scheinfeld's wonderful documentary Who Is Harry Nilsson (and Why Is Everybody Talkin' About Him)? I've been a loyal fan of Nilsson's since roughly seventh grade, so I knew the answer(s) to the title question(s). But it was a joy to hear his friends describe the singer/songwriter whose two biggest hits as a singer were on songs he didn't write and whose biggest hits as a songwriter were on songs he didn't sing.

It got me thinking about the art of entertainment, and how some of the greatest practitioners of that art are considered second-class in their fields because they are not "serious" enough.

If only I could have a friend/who'd stick with me until the end/and we would stay away from crowds/and signs that said 'No Friends Allowed.'

Nilsson, who was what one survivor describes as "a singer's singer," had a voice that defies description, except to say that he could sing anything and you'd want to hear it. As a songwriter, he was incapable of writing something boring. He loved melody, but he soared in harmony. One critic reviewing an album of his complained that Nilsson had not credited all the wonderful background singers who had added so much to his work. Nilsson hadn't credited them because they were all him.

Harry Nilsson was asked to write a song for the film Midnight Cowboy, and he came up with a true classic that really fit the story and the mood of the film. The producers opted not to use "I Guess The Lord Must Be in New York City," but instead took the already-recorded and released track they'd been using as a filler on the footage: Nilsson's cover of Fred Neil's "Everybody's Talkin'."

I'll say goodbye to all my sorrow/and by tomorrow/I'll be on my way/I guess the lord must be in New York City.

Nilsson wrote songs for the Monkees ("Cuddly Toy") and Three Dog Night ("One"), both of which he had recorded himself. He covered songs written by members of Badfinger ("Without You," Nilsson's biggest hit single) and an entire album of standards (A Little Touch of Schmillson in the Night, considered "the best make-out album ever made"), before that became a rite of passage for aging pop singers.

He wrote songs for children and for adults. He played keyboards, guitar, drums and who knows what else. He personally lifted songs by Ringo Starr and many others with his background vocals. He was a friend to all four Beatles, at least two Monkees, both Smothers Brothers and most anyone else involved in the music business in the 60s and 70s especially.

You gotta have soap/to wash your sins away/and you gotta have hope/that's the price you gotta pay/and you gotta give love/or your love will walk away/and you gotta stay loose/it's the only way to stay.

Harry Nilsson wrote a fable for children that resonated with adults. The Point was a brilliant rumination on being different and why people fear what is different. It was also, Nilsson liked to say, the longest pun in history, and it was born, according to its creator, as a result of recreational drug ingestion of one kind of another.

Nilsson was a very serious ingestor. He was clearly an alcoholic, used a good deal of cocaine and in the words of one of his friends, "Whatever was around, Harry would take it." Eventually, this and his lifelong addiction to nicotine conspired to attack his heart, and ended his life at the age of 52. He had seven children, and left behind two ex-wives and a loving widow.

Sit beside the breakfast table/think about your troubles/pour yourself a cup of tea/and think about the bubbles.

During his career, Harry Nilsson created a great many wonderful songs, probably even more wonderful recordings, and one indisputably great album. Nilsson Schmilsson, which held his aforementioned biggest hit single "Without You," combined Nilsson's enormous singing and songwriting talents with those of probably the best pop music producer of the time, Richard Perry, and in one of those odd accidents that happen every now and again in entertainment, the combination at that moment was absolutely perfect.

From "Gotta Get Up," the first song recorded and the album's opening number, to "Jump Into the Fire," which was a little too long but that was okay, this was a record--yeah, vinyl that RCA insisted was thinner and better, and you had to flip it in the middle--that demanded to be listened to whether you were a fan of the artist or not going in.

There was a time when we could dance until a quarter to ten/we never thought it would end, then/we never thought it would end.

During John Lennon's fabled "Lost Weekend" in Los Angeles in 1973, he and Nilsson collaborated on some binges of legendary proportion, and also on the Nilsson album Pussycats. But during the recording process, Nilsson ruptured a vocal chord and kept the information to himself, concerned that Lennon would halt the sessions. His voice recovered eventually, but never completely.

Around this time, Nilsson met his third wife Una, and embarked on a love affair that lasted to his death in 1994. They had six children together, and although Harry would still go off on his drinking and drugging escapades, the couple had a fairly stable family life.

I'm gonna wake up every morning/come home every evening/just jump into bed/and lie there and laugh with my wife.

Harry Nilsson is not a member of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame; he has never even been on the short list for inclusion. Although his music remains fresh and accessible, he is not mentioned as one of the more influential artists of his time. His prodigious songwriting output is not recognized for its intelligence and originality. His voice, which was universally considered among the best ever to sing popular music, is not mentioned in the same breath as Frank Sinatra's or Paul McCartney's.

There are those who will argue that aside from Schmilsson, Nilsson never made a whole classic album, and maybe they have a point (although Harry comes damn close). But I'll contend that Nilsson isn't considered a great artist because he made it seem too easy, and because his art was too entertaining. He was too good at what he did to gain recognition for the genius he brought to it.

Those who do the best work to please an audience are often overlooked until late. Until late in his life, Alfred Hitchcock was considered a director of vulgar entertainments and never received a competitive Academy Award. Groucho Marx accepted an honorary Oscar as well--when he was in his eighties. Charles Dickens was not considered a great novelist until he was dead. Crime novelists like Dashiell Hammett and Raymond Chandler were not recognized for their style and technique until after they died. In his lifetime, Vincent Van Gogh sold a grand total of no paintings to anybody but his brother.

Why is it we don't value people who care about giving us their art and hoping we like it?

This documentary came at just the right time, maybe. If the world is ready to recognize Harry Nilsson, this should be the moment to do so. How do you start a Facebook campaign? Anybody?

By the way: If you've read this far, thank you. But you might also want to take a look at the issue of Alfred Hitchcock's Mystery Magazine that is officially available tomorrow: It contains a new Aaron Tucker story, "The Gun Also Rises," and I'd love to hear from Aaron's loyal fans again. What do you think? Don't hesitate to let me know!

November 07, 2010

As part of my continuing quest to learn more about all things mysterious, I recently finished listening to the audio version of J.A. Jance's Queen of the Night: A Novel of Suspense. I selected this title for no better reason than that the Queen of the Night also happens to be the name of a character from one of Mozart's operas. I know that many of you will consider this to be not only somewhat arbitrary but also extraordinarily lame unless you're one of the few people who have been able to identify my avatar.

Having said that, I am happy to report that I enjoyed this audio book quite a bit more than I initially anticipated. The queen of the night in Jance's novel is not a coloratura soprano but instead a desert flower that blooms only for one night out of the entire year. The story is set in and around an Indian reservation and many of the characters are native Americans. Although this is not a story backdrop I would normally have gravitated toward, I nonetheless found myself quickly becoming absorbed in the culture and lore of the Tohono O'odham tribe of southern Arizona.

As for the plot, there were multiple, interconnecting crimes spanning many decades and I sometimes had difficulty keeping track of the relationships between the large number of characters. (One drawback of listening to a multi-disk mystery in my car is that I can't flip back pages to refresh my memory whenever I find myself starting to get confused.) I did find the main characters to be sympathetically drawn and their motivations and behaviors totally believable. I cared about these characters enough to follow the story to its conclusion so that I could see how circumstances played out for everybody. I also found it appealing that the cast of characters pretty much ran the age gamut, including young children, senior citizens and everybody in between.

While trolling Amazon.com for some additional information, I was surprised to find that this book was actually the fourth in a series. Perhaps, had I started with book one, I might have been a little less confused at times by the relationships between some of the characters , but the book was written in such a way that I never once got the sense that I was coming in in the middle of things. Note to my OCD inflected self: stop being quite so obsessive about having complete runs of series on the library's shelves.

So now for a few words about book reports, since that is essentially what I have just finished doing. In elementary school and junior high, the main reason for doing a written book report was to prove to the teacher that one had actually read the book in question; this was accomplished by providing significant details from the book's story line and characters. With an oral book report, an additional part of the deal was to try to persuade at least a few of your poor classmates (who had to sit and listen to all of these reports) to pick up the book and read it too.

But now here is where it starts to get a little uncomfortable for me. Unlike my colleagues on Dead Guy, I have had no professional training or experience either as a writer or in any other aspect of the publishing business. I am a professional librarian who got her MLS at a time when those of us who were not interested in working with kids focused either on reference, cataloging or administration. For collection development, we were taught to rely on Publisher's Weekly, Library Journal, Kirkus Review, Booklist and Choice; it was presumed that we could tell a good review from a bad one and that that was sufficient to determine whether or not a book merited being included in a library's collection. There was no expectation that we might ever be called upon to offer an opinion to our patrons (let alone on the Internet) of anything that we might have read ourselves. The library school curriculum of the late '70s did not include classwork providing instruction on how to critique a book; the expectation then was that only a very small number of us would ever be called upon to write book reviews professionally.

So here are my questions for those of you who are writers:

1. Does it bug you when people with far less training and/or experience cast negative judgements on your literary efforts?

2. How long does it take to develop the thick skin that is needed to handle negative reader critiques when it is obvious to you that the reader has completely missed the point regarding what you were aiming to accomplish?

3. How do you untangle the distinction between readers as critics and readers as consumers?

November 06, 2010

What ruins a read for you? What will you put up with - what "x" makes "y" worthwhile? I recently finished a book where I mostly liked the characters; I thought the dialogue was pretty good, and the writing original; but for me it was ruined because I thought the actual crime was boring.

This is rare. I will put up with almost anything (or so I thought) if there are good, interesting, complicated characters driving the story, but it turns out the crime in a crime novel is pretty important - to me at least. I've only read a few mysteries where the crime was actually dull, and it must actually take some work on the part of an author to pull it off, so a half hearted "bravo" to this particular author, who shall remain nameless.

A few rules I seem to have mentally established (authors, are you taking notes?): the crime should involve interesting characters. You may not know anything about the dead person when he/she is killed, but it's essential to learn something about them either before or after the crime. Otherwise, you might as well be reading the police blotter (admittedly this is often entertaining. A recent favorite of mine was 3 people calling 911 when they saw a man attacking his parrot - yes, his parrot - near a local park).

It shouldn't be NEEDLESSLY complicated. I realize as far as mystery plotting goes, complicatons are the very spice of life, but I read one novel where every possible detail surrounding the crime was so darn tricky and complicated that by the time I got to the end of the book I didn't say "aha", I said "Phew! I'm finished!" Again, a tricky line to straddle - I remember finishing Minette Walter's The Echo and wanting to start it over immediately - same with David Ellis' In the Company of Liars. Some complications are welcome.

A certain amount of gore is OK. I have discarded a few authors when I thought it was gratuitous or over the top, and this is probably a matter of taste. Sometimes a graphically violent book substitutes the graphic stuff for actual plot and character. Blood does not equal an interesting crime or crime novel, but there should be some.

The novel I mentioned above - which I finished about 5 days ago - was so interestingly written I can recall certain passages, but I cannot for the life of me recall the crime. The author made the crime needlessly complicated and obscure, and then salted it over with some humor. It may have been thought out but it was so deeply buried in the text I simply didn't care by the time I got to the end of the story.

A example of a "good" crime is Peter Robinson's recent Bad Boy, where he takes a pretty surface simple crime, and then he shades it in. I won't soon forget the travails of Inspector Bank's daughter. Or Louise Penny's Fatal Grace, where the person murdered is quickly established as so totally rotten that you're not only pleased she's dead, you kind of hope the killer will get away with it.

November 05, 2010

I can overlook many things – morals, values, questionable taste in clothing – but if there is one characteristic I deem absolutely necessary, it’s etiquette. I’m the person who writes thank you notes, who gives my seat to old ladies on the subway, and I never attend a dinner party without bringing something for the hosts. That’s just how I roll.

While the everyday niceties are second nature to most, publishing etiquette seems to have many people confused. So today, I’d like to clear up a few points:

Agent Etiquette:

Simultaneous submissions are acceptable unless the agent states otherwise.

If you sign with one agent when others still have your manuscript, call or e-mail the other agents to let them know you’ve signed with someone else.

Don’t tell an agent they have an exclusive when they don’t.

If you are unhappy with your current agent, submit the termination letter prior to looking for another agent. Most agents won’t even talk to you when you’re still with someone else.

Know that the world of literary agents is small and, surprise, agents talk to each other. Don’t try to pull any fast ones.

Book Critic Etiquette:

Always write and thank a reviewer for a good review

Never write hate mail or post nasty comments to anyone who posted a negative review

It’s acceptable to offer a book critic a review copy, but don’t ask them to review your book. Some can commit to reading it, but none can commit to a review.

You never know when tables will turn. Whether you’re dropped by your publisher, fired by your agency, dogged by a reviewer, or have a bad run-in with an author. You always treat everyone with respect and you always act politely. You never know when circumstances will change, so you never burn a bridge.

November 04, 2010

Be warned: SPOILERS below for this season of Project Runway. But I swear it's also about writing, too!

Alright, so what an effing travesty, huh? Gretchen? Gretchen is the winner?! She beat MONDO?! Mondo the spectacular, Mondo the fearless, Mondo the playful, Mondo the best designer on the show? Gretchen of the knitwear granny panties and drab color palates?

In case you didn't watch, here's a shorthand photo comparison:

Gretchen (ahem knit granny panties AHEM)

beat MONDO

I'll say again.

Gretchen (yes that vest is built into the dress and yes it's leather)

beat Mondo (WANT THIS DRESS)

Mondo, who skillfully and corageously mixed loud, awesome patterns with simple, confident shapes, who had a clear point of view as a designer, who possessed the craft to back up his vision ... Mondo deserved to win. His looks weren't all perfect (I'm not a fan of the bubble dress), but the risks he took were calculated and backed up with a beautiful, bold overall vision.

Gretchen, on the other hand, sent out clothes that felt tepid and unsure. And that gave models poof-crotch. I do appreciate the whole flowy-clothes-are-comfy thing, but that's not an aesthetic -- at least it shouldn't be on a reality tv show about FASHION. It also seemed to me that Gretchen saw how well pattern-mixing had worked for Mondo all season, and so she tried some herself. Except her patterns were all the same colors, and all the same size, and blend together into one sad animal who gets left out of the safari tours.

Compare/Contrast!

So Nina and Michael pushed hard during the judging session for Gretchen; Jessica Simpson and Heidi Klum spoke with the voices of all the viewers of the show and also the entire universe by holding out for Mondo. But in the end, Gretchen was awarded the prize. (And really, hey, good for her. Whatever I may think, it was a great achievement and we share a haricut, so I can't hate on her that much. [Except you guys her mouth looks like a muppet mouth and it looks like her whole head should open in half backwards when she talks, doesn't it?!)

Ahem, anyway. My point is this: Judging fashion is subjective. Nina and Michael praised Gretchen's collection for being on-trend and styled well. They commented on how easily Gretchen's clothes could be sold in the wider marketplace. The pieces aren't challenging, and wouldn't intimidate a woman who wanted to buy something that was very right now. Gretchen's clothes are accessible. Heidi and Jessica talked about pushing enevelopes, the purpose of a runway show and the future of fashion. Mondo wasn't designing to fit the latest trends, nor was he desingning with a customer in mind -- he was creating something beautiful. His styling was a bit off (I think we all could have done without the headpieces), but his looks and ideas were pushing fashion forward.

So, ok: You know what else is subjective? Judging writing. Editors read new work every. single. day. and make judgements about what works and what doesn't.

Sometimes editors judge that a nonchallenging, accessible, bland-ish but readable manuscript is worth publishing. And readers buy it in droves because it's the equivalent of a comfortable, flowy, uncomplicated sundress on a hot day. It's not breaking any boundaries, but it's covering all the body parts that need covering.

Other times, editors want Mondolit. Writing that pairs crazy, loud, seemingly un-pairable patterns into a daring, lovely outfit -- but in book form.

I want more Mondolit in the world. (I guess that makes me just like Heidi Klum!) How about you?

November 03, 2010

No one who follows, or even dips into, Dead Guy can fail to be aware of my love-hate relationship with technology.

This time yesterday my fingernails were in serious danger of extinction, not because of something technology had done, but because a large chunk of it wasn’t there. Temporarily, I’m relieved to say; everything came back on line (as I believe is the correct term) as I was about to leave the office for a late lunch. But by that time both phone and broadband connection had been missing for six days. Six days!

OK, not a life-threatening disaster for me, though potentially a very bad thing indeed for my elderly, infirm neighbour; she lives alone and her phone could be – in fact, has been – a lifeline. Despite urgent calls to the phone company, it took them three days to reconnect hers.

Mine took twice as long. Time was when I’d have sighed with relief that I wasn’t going to be interrupted by the unignorable trill of the phone, and forged ahead with stuff that didn’t need internet input – which, back in the day, was most things.

But technology invades your life, entangles its fibre-optic tendrils into everything you do and renders itself absolutely indispensible. If you need a bit of information you find yourself reaching for the mouse and hovering the cursor over Google without consciously thinking about it – until the screen tells you you can’t go there. And though I’ve always been the kind of person who is content with my own company and doesn’t need constant communication with others as a staple of existence, I have learned to rely on e-mail to keep me in touch with the big wide world beyond my office; and if the phone number listed in the directory doesn’t work, people think you’ve died or gone bust.

Fortunately my office is only yards from my house, and we are a two-computer household. (For some reason I’ve given up trying to get someone to explain, the phone and broadband line in the house were working fine. I don’t think I’ll ever understand this stuff…) So though changing location every time I needed to look something up wasn’t a serious option, I was able to get to some (though not all) of my e-mail via webmail on husband’s shiny new laptop. But that threw up a little mystery of its own: why is it I can read messages on webmail, but it won’t let me reply to them?

I was also able to berate the phone company using its own lines of communication. Not that it did any good; received wisdom was someone had cut through a rather large cable, and over four thousand lines were down in the vicinity. I suppose these things just take time.

It’s all working again now (she said, crossing fingers, touching wood and hoping she hasn’t just invoked the Law of the dreaded Murphy), and with a little luck this post will shortly be winging through the ether.

Whether that’s a good or a bad thing I’ll leave it to loyal Dead Guy followers to decide.

November 02, 2010

Once when I was 9, my friend Sarah and I secretly climbed up on her roof and built a fort where the upstairs eve hung over the lower level one. We ran an extension cord out of the window and lugged a black and white TV up there and had pillows and snacks and Capri Sun. Then, in an attempt to head down for a bathroom break, I promptly fell off of her roof.

A few years ago while seeing a chiropractor for a different issue entirely, she took a look at my x-ray and said, “Egads! [I’m sure she said Egads, doesn’t everyone?] What trauma happened to your spine when you were younger?” Apparently, to this day, my back and spine still show the effects of this fall from the roof, (although at the time, I just kind of bounced and walked it off) and the simple actions of one misstep will most likely plague me until I the day I die (probably flung from a catamaran or being shot out of a cannon into a tub of noodles).

AND THIS IS WHY I SHOULD NOT HAVE JOINED TWITTER. One misstep and I will be feeling the effects for twenty years. ON MY SPINE.

Sigh.

Yes, I joined twitter and in the span of 24 hours I had already experienced 3 flop sweats, 2 virtual screams for help, and one firewall blocking my tweets from the entire Penguin Publishing Company which delivered a bounce back message to impending followers citing my material as “tasteless.”

Yup, that really happened. And I am telling you I am only Poelle’ing twitter at like, a 4. (I know this as I am being carefully monitored by someone we’ll call Dolly Soot.) To give you a barometer, on this blog I usually run at about a 6, maybe tipping into a 7. (In real life, I can be counted on in public to throw an 8 in there every once in a while, and in one horrible moment at Love is Murder, an 11. AND YOU PROMISED TO TAKE THE PANTS THING TO YOUR GRAVE, SHARON. ) But I am being extra careful on twitter because it is so, I dunno, immediate! I only joined so I could secretly lurk and spy but that’s like saying, The Kool-aid guy just wants to aerate your living room and quietly serve you sugary beverages.

See, it’s like Husband says, “Can you not just shut your pie-hole for one minute?”( I know, our vows were very progressive.) I see all of these comments and I want to say something back but I am not saying anything that MEANS anything, but I can’t help but want to respond to every single one. So then I don’t really respond to any, but I start to type responses for several, and then I am eating my eyelashes and petting an old rag doll saying, “It’s all right, Nancy bear, it’s all right.”

When I go on twitter I need to have a clear strategy about how to increase my awareness on social media opportunities. And I also need a thingy- you know, a horse hood thingy, like this.

Good LORD. Uh, wait. No. I really don’t think that’s what I meant. Although throw in a pair of Kate Spades and I would wear the hell out of that thing. I mean this.

Ooh, and that will be super helpful in keeping the moths off of my eyeballs. Once when Husband was in college and flirting with a young lady outdoors, a moth suddenly flew into his eye and got trapped in his eye juices and was flapping around stuck to his eyeball and he was howling and batting at it for quite some time. Hey, you know the old saying: one girl’s discarded screaming boy with a moth stuck in his eye juice is another girl’s prince.

Anyway, I really could use some help and/or tips about how to best utilize @Bpoelle on Twitter. I mean, of course, after finding out what Benedict Cumberbatch had for lunch, that is.

November 01, 2010

Quite some time ago, at least by my compass, a psychologist named Elisabeth Kubler-Ross made a perennial pest of herself by dividing the process of dying (or grieving, depending on who's doing the explaining) into five stages. Dr. Kubler-Ross, who died in 2004 but unfortunately did not mention at the time whether she was right or not, decided that the process would be delineated as follows:

1. Denial ("I'm not dying.")

2. Anger ("Whose fault is this?")

3. Bargaining ("If I can just live to see my daughter's grandchildren get old...")

4. Depression ("Man, dying is a bummer--got a Xanax?")

5. Acceptance ("Bring it on").

You have to wonder where shooting victims find the time.

Not terribly long ago, and certainly after Dr. K-R left this mortal coil without disclosing her findings from the real deal, I was asked by a ghostwriting client to extrapolate the doc's theory into another realm as a book proposal. Now, grafting the process of death onto anything else hardly seemed like an entry to bestseller territory, but it wasn't my book, so I gave it a shot. Shockingly, the book didn't sell so fast it would make your head spin.

But given that I'm not trying to sell anything on this blog, perhaps it would be interesting to take the doc's formula and apply it to the process of writing and publishing a mystery novel. (Perhaps not, but hey, it's Monday and I have to post something...) Let's take a look:

1. Denial: A more cynical author might suggest that this step should be moved to the spot after an editor gets a chance to read the book, but I'll disagree. The kind of denial I'm thinking of here takes place in the author's mind: "I'll never get through this book." Oh, shut up. You will too. Just sit down and write 1000 words a day. In three months or less, you'll have a draft. Unless you're writing the Gone With the Wind of mystery novels.

2. Anger: A more cynical author might suggest that this step should be moved to the spot after an editor gets a chance to read the book. No. The anger here is at oneself. Why? Because any author worth his/her salt (or any other condiment) gets to the end of the writing process incensed with him/herself for screwing up that great idea s/he had before beginning. That's why we invented rewriting, pal--go back and fix it.

3. Bargaining: Yep, we've sent that puppy out to an editor now. Bargaining comes in any number of forms: First, the author tries to strike a bargain with an agent, and after that fun-filled process has been completed, editors are contacted, and some might actually even want to read that manuscript. Some of the bargaining is between the author and his/her own mind: "If this one sells, I swear I'll shower every single day while I'm writing the next one." Then comes the bargaining between the agent and the editor, assuming there's interest. That's the fun part, mostly because we never get to hear about it until it's close to over.

4. Depression: Something that happens when we read our newly signed contract and realize that it will be a miracle if we ever see a dime in royalties from this book.

5. Acceptance: That first copy of that first book arrives in your hand. To hell with the money. Who cares about the difficulty of the creative process? What difference does it make if your blood, sweat and tears will end up in the racks of a used book store by this time next month? This moment makes it all worthwhile--let me get back to my word processor.

A note to our American readers: Tomorrow is Election Day. Do us all a favor. Vote. Don't vote because you want to "teach them a lesson," or because your cousin still hasn't gotten a new job. Don't vote for one candidate over another because you heard one was a member of a different religion, because one once went to a convention of Druids or because one is not a fan of the proper "Star Trek" franchise. Don't try to punish the politicians, because they're not going to change, and don't vote for someone because they're a "Washington outsider" alone. A lack of experience is not the best resume credential.

Take a look at the two, three, or however many candidates there are on your ballot. Try to decide which one is going to do the job they're seeking--voting for or against stuff on your behalf--in the way that you would do if you were there. And vote for that one.

But vote. "But the polls say my candidate's going to lose." Sure, if people who actually support that person stay home. "It's not the Presidential election; what difference could it make?" An enormous difference, no matter which side of the fence is yours. "Ah, they're all the same." Oh no, they're not. Not even close. Go vote. Tomorrow.